


Under The Floorboards

by LeVen



Series: A Million Memories Washed Ashore [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, First Time, Hair-pulling, Loss of Virginity, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Softcore Porn, Vaginal Fingering, there's a sex pun if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-29 00:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeVen/pseuds/LeVen
Summary: He feels awkward. Everything was complicated now but he doesn’t know how to fix it. Malachi wants to tell her how he feels, but the situation surrounding it grows muddled the closer they get to Fairhollow. They’re a day away, but it feels like any minute now, everything will fall apart.





	Under The Floorboards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gravitaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravitaz/gifts).

> Mal deserves to be topped by his buff girlfriend and that's the whole excuse for the smut.

They’re the last in the inn this evening. Everyone else has long since gone to bed, leaving only the innkeeper who sits behind the counter counting change. The innkeeper doesn’t even seem to notice their presence until they ask for something, which works well for both of them. Mal enjoys Alethra’s company, content to sit in silence with her. They drink half a pot of tea before they bring it upstairs with them. He follows behind her, obedient and holding the pot and his glass with both hands. He doesn’t know what they’re going to do when they reach the top of the stairs and stand at the door to his room. 

He feels awkward. Everything was complicated now but he doesn’t know how to fix it. Malachi wants to tell her how he feels, but the situation surrounding it grows muddled the closer they get to Fairhollow. They’re a day away, but it feels like any minute now, everything will fall apart. 

“Come in?” He asks. It sounds like a beg. He doesn’t want the night to end so soon. Malachi thinks it’s irrational for him to be so nervous, it’s not like it’s even his childhood home. The memories from that place cannot transfer to another. Would the walls of Fairhollow be as cold as home? He’s used to isolation, used to enjoy the time alone. He left home ( <strike> three two </strike> ) one year ago with no one but himself for company. Once, he’d even spent an entire weekend in his room, refusing to let anyone in as if it made any difference to them whether or not he did. Mal hadn’t even let Ankaurk inside. He didn’t realize until recently how much it must have hurt his feelings to be pushed out. In the end, his self-imposed seclusion accomplished nothing.

Instead of refusing him, Alethra walks inside the room. There’s no tables or chairs to sit on except for a single bed in the middle and a simple bedside table. Mal’s belongings sit haphazardly at the foot of the bed, its components falling out where he forgot to secure the ties properly. He would have to get back into the habit of storing things neatly again. Just the act of standing at the doorway with Alethra makes the room feel more inviting. She could probably make a ditch in the ground look like a palace. 

“Ah,” He says. “I forgot they don’t have tables in here.” If Axis came along with them, he probably wouldn’t have forgotten. Of course, he probably would have had a bigger room to share with another person. Not like he was shy about sharing a bed with someone, but it felt more intimate than he was comfortable with. 

Alethra laughs and strides into the room. She perches on the bed like a confident show bird, an amused smile riddling her lips. Leth points to the kettle in his hands. “Are you gonna stand there with that thing all night?” He puts the kettle on the bedside table after refilling both their glasses. The water has long since gone cold. It’s not even the kind of tea he even likes, but he drinks it because she is. 

It's personal when she reaches forward to run her fingers through the white in his hair. Alethra is tender at this moment. He's always liked people touching his hair. The comfort from it is enough to quiet the doubts in his mind. Mal doesn't even realize he's leaning into her grasp until he opens his eyes again. At that moment she kisses him. He needs her like he needs air, her lips the very lifeline that keeps him from falling apart from under himself. And oh, how he forgets to breathe.

The cup in his hand shatters onto the floor, the remaining half of the contents spilling all over the floor with the glass. 

"Shit-" His voice is muffled against her cheek, still pressed close to her skin. He meant to pick up the glass before the tea stained the wooden floor, and he almost succeeds in pushing away. Alethra pulls against his shirt, tugging him down until he's on top of her.

"Fuck it." She doesn't give him the chance to overthink what's happening. Between her teeth she holds his bottom lip, letting it sink into another kiss. It's more than he's ever kissed her before. Where Mal is shy, Alethra is the opposite. She takes no qualms about taking control to get him where she wants him. Her fingers slip back to his hair, snaking through the locks and gently yanks his head backward. He doesn't expect the reaction he gives her, the needy noise with the delayed reaction to being  _ startled _ by the motion. Alethra would never hurt him, he trusts her enough and the only time he though anyone pulled hair was to be mean. This was sweeter than that. 

She laughs from her position on the bed. Alethra raises herself onto her elbows, gently placing a peck to his lips. "You  _ liked _ that, didn't you?" It's mischievous and he can't stop the heat from rising from his core to his cheeks then back again. They're practically nose to nose, with nowhere else for him to hide. For their short time together, she already knows him so well. "You're so cute." He  _ did _ like it, but he couldn’t tell what made him lose his breath  _ more _ ; the kissing shared between them or the way she lavished praise to him as if he  _ deserved _ it. 

“ _ Yes _ .” His voice is breathy, needing more than what she was giving him and too shy to know how to ask for it. Alethra seems smug in this, slipping her fingers underneath his shirt. She leaves goosebumps in her wake, and finally, she pulls her hands out to work on the buttons. 

Malachi stops her when she reaches his covered neck. There are two shiny buttons left, but only he knows what hides behind it. Always he’s had his neck covered, keeping his secrets close to his heart. He holds her hands with one of his own, suddenly agitated. Alethra doesn’t take her hands back, her curious eyes wait for him instead. It feels like an age passes before he finally releases and lets her unbutton the rest. 

She sees the mark before the shirt has been fully stripped away. He can’t stop her from looking, nor wash away the concern that followed when his shirt finally fell to the floor. He knows what she’s going to ask, but he can’t tell her. He doesn’t even know and sometimes it scares him that he doesn’t. 

“Mal?” There’s the concern he knew would appear. Alethra searches for permission as her hand hovers over his naked throat. He’s not used to people looking, but he doesn’t stop her when she touches him. 

“Not today.”

She doesn’t ask again. 

Instead, she sits up to kiss him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It’s odd for her to be so gentle. The woman has never been delicate and he doesn’t expect her to ever change. Least of all for him. She directs his face to the crook of her neck, letting him drag his lips across her skin. Her shirt’s already so disheveled he could travel past her clavicle some three inches. Mal was so distracted he hadn’t even noticed until she laughs and nudges him aside to pull off her own shirt. He doesn’t hear it flop to the ground, too busy staring. It’s sweeter than anything he’d ever imagined, and he can only look away when she starts to feel self-conscious and returns to kissing her. 

There’s something inherently bossy about the way she hitches her leg over his waist. They’re already so close but she wants to be closer still, catching the breath in his throat when she starts to rut where their hips meet. He moans lowly, quiet.

“Leth, I-”

“It’s okay.” She says. When will he learn to stop blushing at every step? “I’ve got you.”

He lets her take the initiative, pulling off the rest of their clothes and never minding how red his face always seems to be. When he hesitates, she stops to kiss him, over and over again until he could memorize her from this alone. It’s not quite enough to feel completely comfortable with how exposed he is. Mal is not rueful of his body, he doesn’t mourn what he never had or what others do. Of this, he has never been insecure. It’s the birthmark marring his skin, the skin ugly and white. It’s shameful, but he doesn’t know why. It haunts him, but the memories fade when he wakes and leave him sad. Malachi is thankful she doesn’t ask because he wouldn’t know what to say. 

Looking at her like this, he forgot there’s a size difference between the two of them. Alethra is the taller one of the two. Her voice carries when his own does not. This is excluding the sheer muscle of her body. All the years of fighting and training put into one glorious woman. Mal entered the game late, but he’d always been thin. It didn’t really matter though, at the end of the day. Never has it been about who was stronger. With all certainty, Alethra can carry Mal, but he wasn’t sure which one of them was mentally stronger. Differences in circumstances have shaped them differently. 

When he tells her he believes it when she has him, he believes it with every bit of himself he has left to give her. It’s not much, and he doesn’t know how to love someone innocently. 

He sinks into her with her guidance. Leth doesn’t give him much mercy, taking the pace faster than he thinks he’s able to go. She rakes through his hair, occasionally pulling hard enough to make him wince but he can’t deny how hot it is to know how wound up she has him. It takes more willpower than he realizes to keep himself from becoming undone. It leaves him ragged when she plays him like a finely tuned instrument. The praises she gives him-  _ good boy more...more _ , are strings plucked with hasty desperation. He can’t recall the last time someone wanted him so much. 

Mal finds his rhythm somewhere along the line. Steady and firm, thrusting to draw out the pleased  _ moans _ that make goosebumps down his spine. It’s her name that comes out of his mouth, spoken almost with reverence if he could ever catch his breath. Leth leaves marks across his jaw, trailing down to his collar where she could reach easily. Sucking on his pulse point, soothing the sting of bites with kisses.

“Not yet, not yet.” Her voice in his ear hitches into a higher octave than she normally speaks. She knows he’s close before he does. Alethra’s grip on his control is tighter than his own and when he thinks he can’t hold out any longer she makes him keep going. The command, though subtle, barely strengthens his resolve but his hips have lost the motion and he stutters. Mal can feel her smile into his lips, more so when he whines through his teeth. 

“Leth-”

He can’t help it. With a final moan, he unravels in her hands. Mal long since stopped thinking, the lust-filled fog is slow to clear out of his head. He buries his head into the crook of her neck. His hot breath heats already warm skin. “Sorry,” as if there was anything he needed to  _ apologize _ for, not from his first time. 

Before Malachi could lose his confidence, he reaches down and puts his fingers where his cock had just been. Because Alethra hasn’t come yet. She gasps, and he feels her arch underneath him like she hadn’t been expecting this. Then again, what had she expected him to do afterward? Mal really doesn’t know what he’s doing, he hadn’t even really known what to do ten minutes ago. He’d always been better with hands-on experience, not that he knew three days ago he would be taking the method literally. 

He twists his wrist and Alethra shouts in his ear. Mal stops, surprised, and pulls back. She clamps her mouth shut with one hand, realizing they’d been getting a bit loud, making Mal snicker. “Now, whose cute?” She swats at him and he laughs more. Mal strokes against her walls, doing as he pleased with this newfound determination to get her off. Leth practically ruts against his palm, pulling him close by his neck to pepper his face in soft kisses and sweet little sounds. She still tells him what to do, where to touch, until she finally finishes with a hefty sigh and a shudder. Her body seems practically glued to his own with one leg hitched up against his waist before she finally sinks back into the cheap bed. 

“Was that really your first time?” She asks after a long moment of nothing but their breathing slowing down. Mal settles on his stomach awkwardly wiping his hand off. He turns a fair shade of red again, answering her question without saying anything. His hair is a disheveled mess and he feels thoroughly debauched. Mal doesn’t tell her he loves her. He fills the space and fits into her arms like he was meant to be there. He’s comforted by her touch, breathing in. 

“Stay the night?” He asks, but he’s already asleep before he could hear her answer. 

**Author's Note:**

> Alethra Eldinglade belongs to my lovely DM and friend Felix who enabled me to write this. She a human fighter and captain of the royal guard of Venia. Common born, she still outranks Mal. Could probably suplex Mal with one arm.
> 
> Good luck explaining how you broke that cup cause you were too busy making out with your girlfriend Mal.


End file.
